Who We are (Away from SHIELD)
by cameomac
Summary: Agent May thought she needed to find out who she was away from SHIELD, and the answer might be more frightening than she ever could have guessed. Jemma Simmons found out who she was, and the answer effected not just her, but her friend and partner, Leo Fitz. Slightly AU Scenes set in and around Season 3, detailing how the team comes together, in loyalty and in love.
1. Chapter 1

It was her fault.

She wanted to blame Hunter – wanted to scream and hit and curse until everything changed, until the past rewound and she could make everything turn out right, but it was useless. Andrew was dead, and as much as she wanted to put the blame elsewhere, she knew the truth.

It was her fault, and it always had been.

She had never been able to give him what he wanted. She'd tried. When he had gone down on one knee and asked her to marry him… she'd tried. When she'd let herself believe they could start a family, that they could be normal… she'd tried. When she'd agreed to a second chance – a chance to see who they were away from SHIELD…

She'd tried, but it wasn't enough, and now he was dead.

They were combing through the rubble… searching for the charred remains of his body. Coulson – not Phil, never Phil, not in a situation like this – wouldn't let her join the search. He was worried about her, glancing her way every time the team reported in, not even attempting to hide the concern welling in his eyes.

She kept her own gaze blank.

"Director, we've found something!"

Within minutes, the team had dug the body out and reverently placed it on a gurney. Coulson had tried to shield it from her view, but she had wanted… had _needed_ to see. She needed to seal the image in her memory – a gruesome reminder of who she was and who she could never be.

They zipped him into a body bag and wheeled him onto the Zephyr.

The flight was long but smooth. She made sure it was. For everything she had denied him, for everything she had held back, she could at least give him a peaceful flight home.

She was in her room, working through ways to convince the Director to let her rejoin Hunter when they came for her. Bobbi stood in the doorway, her eyes warm with sorrow and heavy with reluctance.

"You need me to identify his body."

Bobbi shook her head. "No. We were able to run a DNA test on the remains."

"Understood. Someone will need to contact his parents. I'll take care of it."

"May, it wasn't him. It wasn't Andrew."

"Then we need to go back. I can have wheels up in ten."

"May, you don't understand. We didn't find his body, but we did find something." She shifted uneasily, wincing as the movement strained her injured knee. "Something we've seen before."

Shaking off the pain, she stared Melinda in the eyes, her gaze troubled but filled by a core of steel. "May… did you know Andrew was taking supplements?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Director Coulson, sir?"

Jemma stood outside the doorway to his office, edging up to the threshold but not quite crossing it, as if she were scared what might happen if she were to take the extra step. Her already-pale skin was ashen, giving her a drained appearance.

Or maybe it was the dark circles under her eyes that made him think she was on the verge of collapse.

"Yes, Simmons." He kept his voice low, knowing - though she would never admit it – that she was still having difficulty with loud noises. "What is it?"

She crossed her arms loosely in front of her, the knuckles of her right hand whitening as her fingers scratched restlessly at her left wrist. "I was wondering if you'd heard anything from Agent May. Since she was given the news, I mean."

"Not directly. Bobbi's sending me updates." He refrained from glancing down at his phone, resisting the urge to check and see if another message had come in the time he'd been talking to Simmons.

 _I should have been the one to tell her. I'm the Director. I'm her friend._

Which was precisely why she wouldn't have wanted to hear it from him.

Simmons shifted in the doorway, bumping into the frame. "I'm running the test again," she said, her voice quiet and uncertain. "Just to make sure."

"That's what… the fifth time? I doubt these results will prove any different." He wished they would.

"I suppose not. Still…" She stared at the floor for a moment before lifting her head to meet his gaze, eyes watery with a barely-restrained desperation. "The sample we found might not have come from him. Isn't it possible that Dr. Garner managed to escape before the inhuman…"

"Lash. He goes by the name Lash."

"…before this… Lash… arrived?"

"If he did, then why hasn't he reported in? Why hasn't he let May know where he is?" Even if he couldn't make it back to the base, he should have found a way to let Melinda know he was alright. Phil couldn't imagine any scenario dangerous enough to keep him from letting the woman he loved know he was alive.

"Perhaps he's been detained." Simmons' voice was trembling and her hands had begun to shake. "Perhaps Lash took him as a hostage."

"Why? For what reason?" _It didn't make sense. None of it made sense._

"I don't know, sir," she whispered. "But it could be possible, couldn't it?"

Everything said elsewise… Dr. Garner's miraculous escape from Ward's men – not to mention his continued absence… the familiar hole cauterized through the midsection of the body found in the rubble… and the sample they managed to recover – a perfect match for the one collected from the attack on Alicia and her friends...

It all pointed to the growing realization that the man they'd trusted to judge the Inhumans' psychological state was the same man sentencing them to death and serving as their executioner.

Looking at Simmons, though, he knew he couldn't tell her that. For whatever reason, she had latched on to the possibility that Garner was innocent, and she was grasping the belief as tightly as if it were the only thing holding her down to earth.

"It seems important to you that it _is_ possible. Why?"

"I don't want Agent May to be hurt, sir."

"None of us do, Simmons." _Him least of all._ "But do you honestly think she'll be happier thinking he's being held prisoner by a psychotic killer? Or that he might already be dead?"

"Yes. Because then she won't have to admit the man she loved is nothing but a monster now." Tears were streaming down her face, but he didn't think she was aware of them. "Dr. Gardner is a physician. He's spent his life trying to help people, to make things better, and now he's a murderer. He's gone against everything he believed in. Wouldn't it be better to disappear – to die even – then to destroy everything Fi… everything May believed she saw in him?"

Moving softly so as not to scare her, Phil cautiously approached the crying scientist.

"I think that in order to survive, sometimes people do things they wouldn't normally do. Things they never thought they would be capable of. Things that will haunt them for a long, long time. " Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to his chest. "And if that's what happened, then May – or anyone else who knows what kind of person the doc is – will not only understand, but be grateful for every day – every second – they have when that person is back in their life."

"I'm so sorry," she hiccoughed, her breath coming in soggy gasps. "I don't know what's come over me."

"I think you've had a very long day. We've _all_ had a long day." He gave her one last squeeze before pulling away. "And we're all worried about May and Dr. Garner." He walked to his desk and leaned against the edge. "It's only natural we should be a little off-kilter."

"Yes sir. Thank you, sir." She patted her face with the cuff of her sleeve. "And sir… I know she doesn't think she needs it, but I'm glad Agent May has you to watch over her. You can be… quite reassuring."

"Thank you, Simmons. If there's nothing else?"

"No, sir. I'd best be getting back to the lab."

As the door clicked shut behind her, Phil struggled not to check if there was a message from Bobbi.

He lasted exactly eleven seconds.


	3. Chapter 3

Fitz watched as Agent May attacked. Her hands were a blur of motion, striking first with the right - then with the left – then with the right again, as she poured her anger out on the heaviest of the gym's punching bags.

He wished he could do the same, but he'd probably end up breaking his hand.

She took another swing and the bag swayed heavily on the chain, absorbing enough damage to cripple a flesh-and-blood target. "What do you want, Fitz?" It was the first she'd acknowledged his existence since he'd come into the gym five minutes ago.

Anger boiled up through him. It wasn't right to ignore a person. Not when they needed help.

"Simmons is in the lab," he snapped. "She's bloody well working herself to death trying to find answers for you."

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she executed a flurry of movements that ended with a roundhouse kick. "She shouldn't bother."

"I couldn't agree more." After everything she had been through, Jemma was still thinking more of her teammates than herself. Even teammates who hadn't been there for her. "I get why ye didn't come back when she disappeared; everybody thought she was dead. But what I can't figure out is why ye stayed away after we found her. Ye should have been there for her.' 

"Look at me, Fitz." She threw an uppercut, hitting hard enough to make the metal ring on top of the bag leap off its hook before falling back into place. "What do you think I could do for her?"

"Ye could be her friend." Frustration was making his brogue thicken. "Ye could let her know it's goin' to be alright."

May stepped away from the bag, letting her hands fall to her sides. "If you're looking for an emotional band-aid, you're going to need to search somewhere else." Still not looking at him, she reached for a bottle of water and uncapped it.

"So what? You're not going to do anything? You're just goin' tae write her off until she gets better? If she does?"

"I didn't say that." She finally turned to confront him. There was no expression on her face, but her eyes were softer than he'd ever imagined. "Right now, she's hurting, and there's nothing I can do to help. All I can do is show her how to be angry. She doesn't need that. She needs you. And Bobbi and Mack, and Daisy, too." She paused to take a drink of water. "You should have her talk to Phil. He'll know what to say to her. He's… good with people. He's got a way of getting through to you, of making you know he's there to stay. Even when you're not sure if you want him to."

Guilt crashed into Fitz, reminding him that for all of her apparent calm, she was going through problems of her own. "May… I shouldna hae… I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She stared into his eyes, all softness gone – replaced by fierce determination. "Because I might not be able to do anything for her now, but there's going to come a time when she's ready to fight back. " She turned her back on him, moving to the punching bag once again. "When that happens, I'll be waiting to teach her how."

He followed her, grabbing her arm. "But what if she's never ready?" he asked. "What if she _can't_ fight back?"

Her smile was coldly lethal. "Then I'll be first in line to see that nothing gets close enough to hurt her again."

"Second." The word came out harder than he had intended, and she tilted her head to stare at him. "You'll be second in line."

Her gaze flicked to the hand on her shoulder and back again. "Then you'd better start training. Wrap your hands up and throw some gloves on."

"What, now?" he squeaked.

"Yes, now." She smiled again, and this time there was humour in it. _A frightening, smirking humour, but definitely humour._ "Unless you've got something better to be doing?"

"Uh, no. Not at all."

"Good." She waited for him to get his gloves on, then pointed to the smallest bag. "We'll start on that one and work our way up. You'll be here every day at oh-five hundred."

"Oh-five hundred? That's barbaric! That's an hour an' a half before I usually get up."

"And you'll need every single one of those minutes. Any problems with that?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good, then widen your stance. You'll get more power behind your punches that way."

"Yes, ma'am." He spread his feet wider, feeling like he was finding his balance for the first time in months. "Agent May…"

"Boxing usually doesn't involve this much talking, Fitz. Keep your shoulders loose."

"Yes, ma'am. But if you ask me…"

"I didn't."

"You've got it all wrong. You said you couldn't give Simmons anything but anger, but ye did a pretty good job making me feel better."

"Fitz…" she warned

"Right. No talking. Back to beating things up."

He struck at the bag, and to his surprise…

It didn't hurt so much.


	4. Chapter 4

Standing in what was once her lab, Jemma inhaled and exhaled, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth in an exercise Bobbi had told her would lessen anxiety. It wasn't working. Tears filled her eyes, turning the scene in front of her into a blurred wasteland.

In some ways, it reminded her of her time on hell, but this was worse. She'd done this to herself.

She was never going to forget the look on Fitz's face when he'd stood and walked away from her. She had expected the reaction - how could it have been anything else – but she hadn't been prepared for how it would feel when he stared at her with tears in his eyes and told her they would bring Will home.

Of course he would help Will. He wasn't capable of doing anything else.

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks.

She knew what had happened on the planet had been a natural reaction. Professors Decety and Cacioppo had done extensive research into the effects of isolation and loneliness on the human psyche. She and Will had depended on each other for survival as well as companionship, and basic psychology had ensured they had fallen in love.

So what kind of person did it make her that she could forget him so easily?

From the moment she had heard Fitz screaming her name, she had forgotten everything she felt for Will… forgotten everything they shared. Fitz was there for her. Fitz would bring them home safely.

He _was_ her home.

She hadn't wanted to leave Will behind. She'd called out to him, hoping he would find her, but when it had come down to Will or Fitz, every molecule of her mind and body had been in agreement. There _was_ no choice. It had always been Fitz.

Clutching his hand, huddled in the wreck of the shattered obelisk, he was the width and breadth of her universe.

It wasn't until she was standing in the shower, scrubbing off the dirt of an alien world that the realization had washed over her. She had everything and Will had nothing. He had called her his hope and she had left him, alone and possibly injured.

What kind of monster would do that to someone they loved?

Will deserved better. He was a good man.

Fitz deserved better, too, but she couldn't give it to him. Not after finally realizing what he meant to her. He might be better off without her, but she needed him in her life… as her partner and so much more.

Once Will was back on Earth and around other people, she was sure he would be alright. But if he wasn't, she didn't care. She was never going to give Fitz up again. Not if he was willing to have her.

And if that made her a monster, she'd find a way to live with it.

Brushing her eyes dry with the sleeve of her lab coat, she bent back to her calculations.

"Simmons, heads up." Mack leaned into the open doorway. "Coulson's calling us all for an emergency meeting."

"I'll be right there." She quickly saved her work before shutting down the terminal. "Have they found Dr. Garner?"

Mack shook his head. "No. There's still no sign of him. But we've figured out where Ward is hiding."


	5. Chapter 5

She was running through her weapons, performing a last-minute check to make sure they were all at 100 percent. Nothing was going to stop her from putting a bullet in Ward's brain. Not a malfunctioning gun… not any amount of Hydra scum standing between them… nothing.

Not even Phil.

"I don't like this." He had dismissed the rest of the team after the meeting, sending them scurrying off to their various assignments, each one filled with the fire and dedication Phil always seemed to inspire in his team.

Even Mack had fallen to his insidious charm. The mechanic, once an avowed skeptic of his methods, had become an enthusiastic convert, questioning some of his decisions, but in the end, believing enough in the man to give him unwavering loyalty. It was funny how Coulson managed to do that to people. One minute, you didn't see him at all, and the next, you saw him in a brand new light and your whole world changed.

"It's a bad idea, May."

"I don't care." She pulled a fresh clip from the pile in front of her and slotted it into her Glock. It gave off a loud click as it slid into place.

"He's going to know you're coming for him."

Even without looking at him, she could tell his expression. His brows would be drawn down and slightly together, and there would be a thin line of worry etched above the bridge of his nose.

In the past two years, that line had gotten deeper and deeper. It was one more thing she had to pay Ward back for.

"Good," she said, attaching more clips to her belt. "I want him to know."

He sighed heavily, and she resisted the urge to look up at him. She couldn't let him stop her.

"Not like this," he said, stepping close enough that he was brushing against her elbow. "It's not worth the risk."

She shifted away from him. "Hunter got in one good shot before he got away. He's injured. Probably in pain. I'm going to make that pain a whole lot worse." Her lips curled in satisfaction. "And then I'm going to kill him."

"You're not thinking straight, May. You're letting anger get the best of you."

"Damn straight, I am. He went after Andrew."

"Mel…" It was only one word, but it stopped her cold. They didn't use each other's names often, and never in a situation like this. It was too private, too personal. Too hard to keep the walls up.

"Don't, Phil." She allowed herself one look at him, one chance for him to see the turmoil she was trying to contain. "I need to do this." A split second later, she looked away.

For anyone else, it wouldn't have been enough, but Phil had always seem straight to the heart of her.

His hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"As much as I can."

His fingers tightened, pressing into her flesh. "I mean it, Mel." His voice was low, sincere in a way only he was capable of. "Doing this is hard enough. Doing this without you?" His voice hardened. "Not an option."

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything that wouldn't give her away.


	6. Chapter 6

May reached for the yoke, minutely adjusting the plane's altitude. Bobbi sat in the co-pilot's seat, wearing a carefully neutral face. The mission had been a disaster on every conceivable level. Ward was alive, the Strucker kid was dead, and Andrew… she didn't want to think about Andrew. She hadn't cared what the evidence had said; she'd _known_ he wasn't an inhuman.

Which meant he was dead. Or being tortured by Ward to get back at her.

But this time, Ward wasn't the killer. According to Strucker, _Andrew_ was.

"He knew about the supplements." Her voice was a surprise even to herself. "I warned him as soon as the first reports came in."

"Do you think he deliberately took them?" Bobbi's answer was calm and non-judgmental – a textbook example of how to encourage a subject to keep talking.

"I keep telling myself he couldn't have, but I don't know." She knew Bobbi was playing her, but after the fight May had started in the exercise room, maybe she felt like he owed the other woman something. "He dragged me to a luau," she said, grimacing at the memory. "Said we never did the touristy things the first time around."

They had laughed and flirted, remembering old jokes and shared adventures. It hadn't exactly been like old times but she thought it had been going well.

"I think it might have happened that night. We had an argument." It had started out imply enough. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd caught a glimpse of a young woman with pale skin and chestnut hair. For a split-second, her hopes had risen.

Deep down she'd known it wasn't Simmons, but Andrew had noticed her excitement and subsequent disappointment. She'd told him it was nothing, but he'd kept pressing her until she admitted she was worrying about the team. Phil was looking out for them, but he had so much to deal with and she wasn't there to help him with any of it.

The laughter had disappeared from Andrew's smile. He had leaned forward with his most clinical expression and accused her of not wanting to leave SHIELD behind – not even for him. He said it had a piece of her she would never give to him.

"I went for a walk to cool down. When I came back, he was gone. He called me the next morning, saying he needed time to think. I didn't see him again till we were back at the base."

Bobbi shrugged. "There have been a few cases where someone was effected by eating contaminated fish."

"Maybe." She kept telling herself that, but it didn't make it any more likely. "But there were no other cases reported – no husks found."

She rotated the control wheel, fixing the ancillary rotation. "He thought I was choosing SHIELD over him. Now he's going after SHIELD."

Bobbi shook her head. "May, none of this is on you."

"Isn't it? If I could have been what he wanted…"

"You could have. I've seen you undercover enough times to know you could make him believe anything you wanted."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?"

"But you can't do that to someone you love. Look at me and Hunter."

"Are you seriously trying to convince me that you two are what a healthy relationship should look like?"

Bobbi flushed, looking away with an embarrassed grin. "Okay, yeah, I admit we've had our ups and downs."

"Mostly downs," May snorted.

"And I know Hunter's done some stupid shit lately…"

"That would be an understatement."

"But," Bobbi continued, staring out at the clouds, "the reason we keep coming back to each other is that we've never tried to hide who we are from the other."

May arched an eyebrow. "From stories I heard, he didn't find out your real name till you had been divorced two months."

"Oh, I lied about my name. Lied about my age, my job, my hair color, and on one memorable occasion, my tolerance for alcohol, too. But I never lied about who I was at my core. If I had, we would never have stood a chance."

"And you still want that chance?"

"I do." She hesitated before admitting with a wry laugh, "If I don't kill him first."

"I might just beat you to it."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a minute before Bobbi spoke again. "Look, you helped me out back there. You made me realize I've been hiding from getting back in the field, so I'm going to return the favor. What happened to Andrew is not your fault. You weren't the woman he wanted. So what. Sometimes it doesn't work out – for whatever reason. People change, they make mistakes, sometimes they just move on."

"I did love him," May admitted quietly.

"I know you did. But the work we do leaves a mark, and if he couldn't handle who you are at your core, then it's on him." She reclined in her seat, a broad smile blooming on her face. "One of the things I love most about Hunter – besides the mind-blowing sex…"

"Too much information."

"…is that even when we think we hate each other, he's there for me. Even if it means he has to accept I'm always going to lie about the little things, or that I'm going to go back into the field even though we're both scared to death what might happen. He gives me what _I_ need, not what _he_ thinks I should need, and I do the same for him. Because in our field, that's what true love is."

"You seem to have thought about this a lot."

"Yeah, well, I've had a lot of time on my hands while I've been confined to base. That'll be changing now. Speaking of which," she said, consulting the chronometer on the dashboard, "we should be landing in what, ten minutes?"

"Closer to five. In a hurry?"

Bobbi shrugged again. "I radioed in, but Hunter will still be worried until he sees I'm okay. He's such a wuss," she said, rolling her eyes. "He'll probably be in the hangar, staring at every one with his ridiculous puppy dog eyes."

Sure enough, when the plane touched down, Hunter was waiting. May watched as he stared at Bobbi, cataloguing each new cut and bruise the woman he loved had before breathing out in a relieved sigh.

"She did alright?" Phil's voice came from behind May, and she turned to face him.

"I told you she would."

"And as usual, you were right." A tired smile crossed his face, small enough to cause only the tiniest of lines to form around his eyes. "I got your message." He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, so discrete that anyone watching would never guess at the comfort he was offering. "How do you want to handle this, Mel?"

She knew he wasn't asking her from his position as director of SHIELD. When he used her name, it was personal…

She knew he wanted to help, but she couldn't handle it right now. She couldn't afford to let her defense down. "I don't. I need to talk to him first, Coulson. I need to see if there's anything left of him inside of Lash."

If he felt any disappointment in her response, he didn't show it. He nodded once, casually letting his hand drop from her shoulder. "Then that's what we'll do, May. I'll make sure no one makes a move on him before you get to speak with him."

That was just like Phil. Always giving her what she needed.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Just a quick drabble looking at Phil's somewhat slow (at least in certain aspects) thought processes. He's getting there!**_

* * *

His team was falling to pieces. Daisy was furious with him for cooperating with the ATCU, Hunter was going off the rails in his hunt for Ward, and Fitz and Simmons were…

Actually, he didn't know what they were. He suspected they didn't know, either. That was the problem.

From an objective standpoint, it made sense. When you were partners – true partners, the way they were - you developed a bond stronger than friendship, stronger than a lot of marriages he had seen.

Even without a physical aspect, it was intimate. It would be easy to wish for more. It was easier still to pretend you didn't. After all, why risk losing what you already had over a pipe dream? Why delude yourself into thinking what you want might be reflected in your partner's eyes?

But that was stupid. Anyone with half a brain could see that Fitzsimmons belonged together. They could be friends, partners, _and_ lovers.

And God knows, when you had a chance at a relationship like that, you'd be an idiot to let it slip out of your hands.

* * *

 _ **I apologize for the short chapter, but I needed to get this out of the way. From here on out, it will be severely AU.**_


End file.
